


Power, and Those Too Weak...

by TheRogueHuntress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Angst, Brainwashing, Character Bashing, Dark, Dark Harry, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Infidelity, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Powerful Harry, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, Time Travel, Warnings May Change, basically stay the fuck away if any of this shit is a problem for you, only a little bit!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-04-24 10:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14353872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRogueHuntress/pseuds/TheRogueHuntress
Summary: Harry sat on the stool and the sorting hat was placed on his head.“Oh my,” the hat said.'Any chance you’ll place me in Ravenclaw?' Harry asked. The hat laughed. Aloud. The stares and whispers solidified.“Nice try. Only one place for you, as you very well know. It’ll be…SLYTHERIN.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the warnings in the tags!
> 
> I'll list them again: dubious consent, emotional manipulation, brain-washing, mild character bashing, slash, infidelity, and cliches. *more to be added*
> 
> This fic was inspired by the countless Dark!Harry or MOD!Harry stories I read. Some of them were fantastic, so thank you for being inspiration. Some of them were awful, and equally inspired me, because all I could think was that I could do a better job.
> 
> This first chapter has rather too much 'tell' than 'show', but I don't think I can put myself through retelling Harry's Hogwart's years from another perspective. Sorry. The next chapter (or two) will be more 'show'.
> 
> I have at least one more chapter written.

_Harry_

Harry Potter opened his eyes on his second birthday and smiled. It was the kind of smile one associated with loan sharks, and lawyers, and as such if anyone had been there to see it they would, frankly, have been terrified. Today would be the day Harry said his first word to his aunt and uncle, and that word would be ‘ _Imperio_ ’.

Harry lived a quiet life. He and his cousin were doted upon equally and the entire town of Little Whinging cooed over how sweet and polite they were. Dudley learnt manners, and never bullied anyone, unless they threatened his smaller brother, and of course vice versa. Harry excelled in all areas and could often be found in the local library. Dudley was never going to be as intelligent as Harry, but Harry helped him, and so neither of their grades were lacking.

Occasionally a handsome man visited Diagon Alley. He petitioned for the magical guardianship of Harry Potter and won, stunning the wizarding community. He was the son of Lily Evan’s uncle, and as such, Harry’s cousin. He had the same startling green eyes, but brown mousey hair that fell to his cheek bones. With this revelation, it became apparent Lily Evans was a half-blood, and thus Harry Potter was a first-generation pure blood, to the intrigue of many.

One day, there was a break in at the ministry, but like all good robberies, nobody knew about it. Nobody apart from one eight-year-old boy, whose proud acquisition was a time turner. From that day on Harry Potter could be found in Diagon Alley with his magical guardian, eating ice cream and reading all the books he could get his hands on.

“Ravenclaw, for sure,” people would tell him, and Harry smiled, happy with the knowledge that there was no way the hat would allow him to be sorted into Ravenclaw, however much he might wish. There was only one place that this Harry Potter would go.

Dumbledore, it seemed, was using his old wand again. When people asked about it he brushed off their questions, but Harry knew why.

Harry slowly collected pieces of Tom Riddles soul, including the one he extracted from his scar, which faded as the years passed. He had the cup, the locket and the ring stored in a Muggle safety deposit box. Next was the diary, and he decided to make his visit to the Malfoys’ memorable.

* * *

_Lucius_

Lucius woke the moment the curse hit. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do a thing. An angelic looking boy peered down at him curiously. He had big green eyes that ensnared his gaze, and then he couldn’t look away.

“Hello,” the boy said and stroked his cheek gently.

Lucius could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The manor wards were still intact, which begged the question: how had this child gotten in? He appeared to be Draco’s age, but there was something terrifyingly old hidden in the depths of his gaze. A vampire, perhaps? Narcissa was still asleep next to him, breathing quietly. The boy pulled the bed covers further down and brushed the pad of his thumb over the Dark Mark.

“This will be gone soon,” the boy said, and the Mark shivered under his touch. Lucius wanted to flinch away, to run screaming in the opposite direction to this devil.

“And after that, you’ll have to pick a side.”

Lucius realised the boy was holding the book that the Dark Lord had entrusted to him in his other hand. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“I hope you pick mine.” The boy tucked him back in and walked out the room. Moments later the spell was released and Lucius jumped out of bed and grasped his wand, panting. He quickly glanced at Narcissa, who was still asleep. Good. It wouldn’t do to worry her. He scoured the house, looking for the boy, searching for evidence that he had existed. Finally, nervously, he checked the library. Where once had sat the Dark Lord’s possession was an envelope. The sentence ‘Do try not to spoil Draco so much’ was written in elegant calligraphy on the letter inside. Lucius sank into an armchair, hand pressed against his chest in an attempt to quell his pounding heart.

He was doomed.

* * *

_Lucius_

It was the 1st September at 10.45, and Draco was bouncing with excitement. Lucius glanced around cautiously. Ever since the break in three years ago he’d been on edge, expecting the return of the Dark Lord, or the rise of another. He wasn’t sure which prospect was more terrifying.

Lucius narrowed his eyes into mage sight, inspecting the magical cores of each person and child, checking out the competition, so to speak. A flash of light caught his eye and he turned to see the largest magical core he’d ever encountered. Larger than his own, larger than Dumbledore’s, larger, even, than the Dark Lord’s. He blinked and as the mage sight faded away he realised who he was staring at. There sat Harry Potter. Even worse, as the child stared back at him, he realised that those green eyes were the ones that haunted him in his nightmares. His magical core was enormous and it hadn’t even finished growing.

Lucius’ hand shook as he clasped Draco’s shoulder.

“Draco,” he whispered. His son looked up at him, so innocent and naïve.

“It is of great import that you do not offend Harry Potter,” Lucius said. Draco rolled his eyes and Lucius realised his son was spoilt, despite the warning he’d been given and tried to ignore.

“Listen to me,” he hissed. “He is powerful, and dangerous. Either befriend him, or leave him alone. Do you understand?”

Draco shrugged his hand away.

“Yes father,” Draco said and Lucius could only hope he’d listen. “See you at Christmas.” He waved at the Zabini child and dashed away.

* * *

_Harry_

Harry sat on the stool and the sorting hat was placed on his head.

 _“Oh my,_ ” the hat said.

 _'Any chance you’ll place me in Ravenclaw?'_ Harry asked. The hat laughed. Aloud. The stares and whispers solidified.

“ _Nice try. Only one place for you, as you very well know. It’ll be…_ SLYTHERIN _.”_

Harry walked over the Slytherin table, ignoring the shocked glares of the entire school and the polite but confused cheers of his House. He seated himself next to Daphne Greengrass. The sorting continued, and he watched the Professors. Snape seemed to be flickering between smug and bemused, while McGonagall looked like she might have a nervous breakdown.  Dumbledore seemed to be impassive, however Harry knew better. Quirrell, and thus Voldemort, glared at him. The sorting finished as Blaise Zabini seated himself next to Harry and the necessary introductions were made.

“So,” Draco began, as soon as was acceptable. “What did you say to that hat?” The rest of his House and a few Ravenclaws hushed and tried to look like they weren’t listening in.

“I told it a joke,” Harry replied, a smirk firmly fixed upon his face. Everyone seemed infuriated with his reply, but at least knew not to inquire further. It was considered rude to ask about something as private as one’s conversation with the hat.

Well. Nearly everyone knew not to inquire further.

“What joke?” Draco asked. Harry narrowed his eyes.

“A personal one,” he said.

“Tell me,” Draco demanded. A second year next to Draco tried to nudge him to shut him up, but was ignored.

“No.”

“Do you know who my father is?” Draco drawled. Harry snorted with laughter and a few others joined in. Draco looked distinctly perturbed as he realised that they were not on his side. Harry ignored him, and began a conversation with Daphne about Quidditch, while the second year quietly told Draco off.

Draco owled his father and the scorching reply he received frightened him into submission.

* * *

_Harry_

Harry Potter was the perfect pupil. He was studious, intelligent, and consistently the first to perform spells. He helped other students with their homework, and was polite to everyone. He was generous with both time and money. He formed a study group out of the most intelligent students in his year,and they were devoted to him. It was no surprise that when a troll was found in the dungeons, and Hermione Granger was discovered absent, Harry Potter was standing between her and the beast, a rudimentary shield spell preventing them from being injured.

Three days later the Philosopher’s Stone was missing and Quirrell was dead. Also found were three items belonging to the Founders, returned to the school, and missing their soul pieces. Harry kept the Resurrection Stone and he’d happily burnt the diary. On that same day the Dark Mark faded from the Death Eater’s arms and would never return.

Harry paid a visit to each of those Death Eaters, bar the traitorous one, and ensured they would stay in line. Unfortunately for them they were gifted with a new mark, a basilisk that curled around their ankles like a monitor, green the colour of the killing curse, or perhaps the colour of Harry Potter’s eyes.

One day Peter Pettigrew walked into the DMLE, confessed his crimes, and killed himself. Sirius Black was released and placed in psychiatric rehabilitation. Harry refused to be adopted, but in the summer, they spent weekends together. Sirius was devoted to his godson.

At the end of each year Harry beat the previous high scores and the press had a field day about the genius child prodigy they thought him to be. Harry’s study group expanded, and the most promising pupils in Hogwarts were part of it. No one suspected a thing. No one that mattered.

Cedric Diggory won the Triwizard Tournament (with Harry’s help). The day he’d turned seventeen was the day he was marked. He was Harry’s first voluntary follower. The Weasley Twins soon followed. Harry’s mark, for the followers he liked, was an invisible bracelet. It warmed when he summoned them. They mainly used it as a way of finding each other during the holidays.

Harry and Draco had spent that year bonding over the irritancy that was Ronald Weasley and so in the summer between fourth and fifth year Harry visited Malfoy Manor.

* * *

_Lucius_

Harry Potter sat in his parlour, smiling condescendingly at Draco. His son smiled adoringly back.

Lucius tried not to shiver. Despite the advantages that might come if his son won the favour of the rising Dark Lord, he knew that a position as ‘consort’ could easily be abused. It had happened last time, after all.

He glanced at his bare forearm. Lord Voldemort was finally gone and would not be coming back, all because of the boy seated before him. He was not foolish enough to think otherwise. It had been three years since the Mark had faded and he was still coming to terms with its implications.

He’d mentioned to Severus, quietly one evening, that perhaps Harry Potter wasn’t as Light as he seemed. That was as far as his ankle monitor allowed him to push. Severus had laughed, actually laughed, and then given him an antidote for several mind-altering potions. So far it appeared that the boy had done nothing, but he was consolidating power. He had the children of all the politically important families in his pocket. Diggory had won the Triwizard Cup and Draco claimed that it was all thanks to Harry. What he once would have believed as pointless bragging was more likely an understatement, as Draco likely wouldn’t have even seen the depth of Potter’s machinations.

“Do we know who will be teaching Defence next year?” Potter asked with a frown, interrupting Lucius’ musings.

“I’ve heard rumours about Delores Umbridge,” he replied. It seemed that Fudge grew ever warier of Dumbledore’s influence. Potter’s eyes flashed.

“Draco, would you mind grabbing that list of competent replacement teachers we compiled earlier?” Potter said. Draco was up and out of his seat before Potter had even finished the sentence. Potter dropped all pretence as he smirked at Lucius, Draco gone from the room.

“Umbridge is unacceptable. In fact, it might be better for her to be reassigned away from the Ministry, permanently,” Potter said. He looked dangerous and far older than his youthful fourteen. The pure power he exuded when he uncaged it was intoxicating. It was currently whirling around his shoulders, a contrast to Potter’s calm exterior.

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius murmured, galled to be addressing a teenager as such, but knowing that he was outmanoeuvred at every turn. Potter reined his power in just before Draco burst back in. He passed the slip of parchment over to Lucius before retaking his seat, sitting slightly too close to Potter for Lucius’s liking.

Potter stretched, placing his arms along the back of the sofa as he spoke. Lucius eyed the long length of his arm behind Draco’s back.

“We’ve had a pretty disastrous track record with Defence teachers. So, we thought we’d form a list of those who could take the position. Moody was far too paranoid to be teaching Defence, even if he hadn’t fallen ill.”

Lucius nodded, inspecting the list of names.

“He had it in for me,” Draco added, disgruntled, and Lucius couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Alistair Moody had fallen ill with. Potter’s grin stretched wider.

“I guess it’s a good thing he won’t be teaching us next year then.” He smirked, confirming Lucius’ suspicions. At least Potter looked after his own, rather than cursing them.

“Indeed.” The suggestions were sound, and now that the curse on the position had been broken – Lupin had lasted two years as a Professor before being outed as a werewolf – he wanted the best for his son. They’d already removed Binns as History Professor, Trelawney as Divination, and Lucius had his suspicions about Quirrell’s downfall.

“Fancy a fly?” Potter asked Draco, who beamed. Potter brushed his hand along the back of Draco’s neck and clasped his shoulder.

“Come along, my dragon,” he said. Draco flushed, glancing away as he stood. Potter smirked at Lucius, evidently aware of the effect he had.

Lucius watched as they chased the snitch. His son was exceptional, of course, but Potter was something else, born to fly. He blinked and pocketed the list of names. He had business to take care of.

* * *

_Harry_

Seventh year approached. Harry had numerous marked followers. Many were travelling the world, supported by his funds, promising to bring him treasures and exotic spells. He was a regular customer of the goblins, and had made several profitable investments. After all, knowledge of the future was very financially advantageous, not to mention a rogue Philosopher’s Stone.

Frankly, he’d consolidated power, but was still debating what to do with it. He was leaning toward creating a second Atlantis, a safe haven away from Muggles. It didn’t always work, but when it did… he forced himself to stop reminiscing and focused upon the present.

He’d awoken on his seventeenth birthday as his magic whipped around him, gaining his magical inheritance, like he had with every life he’d lived, growing strong with each regeneration. Today he’d decided to stop hiding his strength and claim the excess power had arrived on his birthday.

A small pulse of magic alerted him that one of his marked had entered his property; Lucius. He’d moved out of Private Drive today into a townhouse that had pleased him. It was big, but not unnecessarily so. More importantly, it meant true independence.

Draco stared at him starry eyed when he greeted the Malfoys.

“Your power,” he whispered. Harry greeted him with a nod and ignored Draco’s flush. He’d not unduly encouraged, nor discouraged Draco’s crush on him. It was useful, without being smothering. Hilariously, Draco still believed he was unaware of it.

“Lucius,” he said, with a smirk playing upon his face. He shook the man’s hand and he looked just as flushed as Draco. He brushed his thumb over the back of the man’s knuckles.

“My- Mr Potter. Happy birthday,” he said, silver eyes wide.

Harry’s magic embraced them as he welcomed them in, showing them the house. Draco removed himself to the bathroom, likely needing a moment to compose himself. Harry stepped closer to Lucius, who stepped back.

“Your magical inheritance, my Lord?”

Harry nodded, smug. He stepped again and could see Lucius forcing himself to stay still.

“I’m not hiding it anymore.” He placed a hand on Lucius’ chest. His heart was pounding.

“Scared?” he asked, eyes flickering over the angles of Lucius’ face. “Or something else, perhaps?”

Lucius flushed again and Harry smirked before removing himself as Draco drew closer. He took a seat, indicating for the Malfoys to join him.

“The others will be along soon, for the party,” he told them. He took pity on them and withdrew his magic, settling it around his shoulders like a cloak.

“I could feel your magic?” Draco asked, obviously bewildered. Harry let Lucius explain. He had the power. He just needed to decide what to use it for. The future was within his grasp.

* * *

_Harry_

Harry had plans. Great plans. His eyes flickered over parchment in his hand detailing his N.E.W.T. scores. All Outstanding, nothing unexpected. He composed a note to his followers in his year, pretending to care about their scores, and sent the letters off. They were portkeys to bring them to his safe house. Today was the day he was marking his most faithful. He lounged in his practical ‘battle ready gear’, his usual outfit of dragon hide and tailored robes. He’d not been caught unawares in centuries and he wouldn’t allow complacency to get the better of him.

Hermione was the first, the portkey triggered upon the culmination of her reading the letter. She grinned upon arrival.

“Bastard,” she muttered fondly. “Is everything set up?”

He nodded and she seated herself at his left side, leaving the right for Draco, who’d just arrived and joined them wordlessly.

Neville, Dean, Blaise, Daphne, Susan, Padma and Hannah completed them. They exchanged pleasantries and he was impressed to see that they were all dressed appropriately for the situation and that none had been surprised by his impromptu summoning.

“My friends,” he began, his voice low and seductive, laced with magic. “We have spent our childhood excelling beyond our peers. We are superior, not because we were born with a silver spoon in our mouths, but because we devoted ourselves to the calling of magic. Each of us has a unique ability to wield magic like none have done before, and that is why you, my most intelligent and faithful, are the ones sitting here today.

I believe that together it is our responsibility to share our knowledge, and improve the world we find ourselves in. But there is one problem.” He sighed.

“The Muggles, as we have discussed, are advancing far beyond our own technological capabilities, and despite our devotion to the improvement of the Wizarding World I do not think we can hide from them forever. I can only imagine the disastrous results of Muggles discovering magic on a wide spread basis.” He held up a hand to stall Hermione’s defence of her parents and their kind.

“I am not suggesting this gives us the right to attack them like many others have planned to before. No, I am suggesting something different. A haven, created by ourselves, our very own Atlantis.” He could feel Draco vibrating with enthusiasm beside him, and the rest were nearly as intrigued.

“Already I have asked some of my older friends to search for ancient magics that can help save our world. I am now asking if you would like to join them, and me, in liberating us from oppression. I see a world where children practise in the streets of a city paved by magic. I see a world where no one is ridiculed for lack of Wizarding culture, because everyone will have been raised a Wizard. Can you help me realise this world?”

They gazed at him, slavishly devoted.

“Yes,” someone whispered.

“Yes, my Lord,” Draco murmured, dropping to one knee. Harry stroked Draco’s cheek bone with one finger.

“My beautiful dragon,” he said. He knew the others, especially those with links to Voldemort’s reign, would be unsure of such a display. This would be the turning point. Draco’s eyes were bright and filled with awe. His magic swirled about the room, embracing his friends. He took Draco’s wrist.

“There’s a piece of magic I’ve invented that will let me find you, or allow you to find me if you are ever in distress. It leaves no visible mark, but you may feel a slight warmth around your wrist,” he said, eyes only on Draco. Draco nodded, grinning. Harry traced the pale skin, fingers brushing over the blue veins, and whispered the spell. He imbued the invisible tracker with his magic, hiding it from all but him, and marking Draco as his.

“Stand,” he said. Draco did, and they turned to face the rest of the group. As one the dropped to their knees.

“Me next,” Hermione demanded, “my Lord,” she said in a coyly mocking manner, but he could feel the undertone of respect.

Harry marked them all and they loved him for it.

“If you’re ever in danger, think of me as your Lord, and I will find you. I will not permit anyone to harm you.” His eyes flashed. He could see the respect in their eyes, the slight wariness, and the awe.

“Now, I’m sure you have many things to do to prepare for your careers and the rest of your lives. Keep a ready ear for sympathisers and make me proud. Well,” he laughed, smiling fondly. “Even prouder.” He nodded regally. “You may go.”

Harry caught Draco’s wrist before the man could leave. The room emptied as the rest of his followers left.

“You were wonderful,” he told his right hand. He stroked the palm of Draco’s hand, up his wrist and along his veins, where once a Dark Mark might have been. His magic pulled the outer layer of Draco’s robe off him and he stepped closer, pining him against the wall.

“Mm… my Lord?” Draco stuttered. Harry ran his hand down Draco’s chest, enjoying the feel of the hard planes beneath endless layers, his magic echoing his desire and unbuttoning it as he went.

“Draco. Darling. My dragon. Did you really think I hadn’t noticed those long looks you graced me with?” He undulated his hips against Draco, who was flushed and panting and hard against him, and the man whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut. Harry kissed Draco, taking everything he had to offer, breathing in Draco’s gasps and sighs.

“Do you want me?” he asked. Draco was the picture of sinful delight, and Harry shivered, desire curling in his belly. He’d waited a very long time to take advantage of this beauty.

“Always,” Draco rasped. Harry smiled.

* * *

  _Lucius_

Draco had been summoned by portkey and Lucius tried not to pace, to worry. He’d wanted to discourage his son from taking the same path that he had, but reluctantly accepted that the boy’s fate had been sealed the moment Harry Potter had been sorted into Slytherin. Perhaps even earlier than that.

There was a crack of Apparition that told him Draco had returned from what he suspected had been his initiation. He walked into the hallway, trying to appear as if merely curious. He winced upon seeing Draco. His son was glowing, a smile playing across his face. His clothing was in disarray and hair tousled. His cheeks were flushed and his lips looked bitten. His entire appearance screamed ‘well fucked’ and Lucius suspected that was exactly what had happened.

“Father,” Draco said, upon seeing him standing there gormlessly. His voice was raw as if… well, Lucius didn’t want to think about it. Not in the context of his son.

“You seem well,” he said, cringing at the idiocy of his words. He didn’t know what Lord Potter would do if he got the impression Lucius disapproved, or was trying to interfere.

Actually, he could imagine Lord Potter laughing it off, as if he wasn’t worth taking notice of, but that almost made it worse, although he could admit he wasn’t a threat. The Marks made sure of that. One around the ankle that marked him as an ex-servant of Lord Voldemort, the ink imbued with basilisk poison that would infiltrate their bloodstream upon betrayal, and one around his wrist that marked him as Lord Potter’s, invisible but binding nonetheless.

“I am well.” Draco stroked his wrist. “My Lord has marked us, and we are going to change the world.” He was so happy, so young, so naïve. Lucius could only hope Lord Potter would be more merciful than Voldemort had been.

“Congratulations,” he said. “If you will excuse me, I have some business to take care of.” He fled to his study, shutting the door and leaning against it with his eyes closed.

“Hello Lucius.”

He froze. He opened his eyes. Lounging in his favourite armchair was Lord Potter. Objectively Lucius could see how his son had fallen for him. Lord Potter was Dark, handsome, and devilishly clever. He exuded power and it was a high unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

“My Lord,” he croaked. He tried to move forward but found himself pinned against the door. He tried not to panic. Lord Potter waved his hand and heavily warded the room like it was nothing, like that wouldn’t exhaust a wizard using his wand, let alone wandlessly.

“I realise you have your reservations,” Lord Potter said, and as Lucius began to speak wiggled his fingers and silenced him. He stood, drawing closer, too close, placing a hand on his chest where his heart was pounding.

“You’re terrified of me,” he observed, smug, and yet mildly incredulous. His smile turned wicked, strangely reminiscent of their first encounter as he moved his hand slowly further down. “And you like it.” His voice was vicious, brushing over Lucius’s straining cock that he had desperately been trying to ignore. Lord Potter’s magic caressed him and he felt light headed with pleasure. Lord Potter’s hand teased him through the slacks he wore.

“You’ll behave?” he asked, seemingly unaffected. Lucius opened his mouth, paused, then nodded.

“Playing with you really is quite fun,” Lord Potter said, pressing the heel of his hand against Lucius’ cock. Lucius closed his eyes and was glad for the silencing charm that hid his moan.

“Look at me,” Lord Potter snapped. Lucius forced his eyes open and shuddered as Lord Potter’s magic pulled him over the edge, staring into those blazing green eyes as he came. Lord Potter released the spell holding him up and he sank to his knees, panting, humiliated and scared and still utterly turned on.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Lucius said, and when he looked up, Lord Potter was gone.

The residue of his magic remained, however, and Lucius knew that his true reign had only just begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut, dub-con, torture, infidelity, character bashing, this ain't a nice chapter.

_Harry_

The years passed and Harry gained a strong circle of supporters. Always on his right was Draco, on his left Hermione, and in the shadows Lucius. He’d taken a risk with the ex-Death Eater but it had paid off wonderfully. The man was completely under his thumb, balanced on the edge between love and fear. Draco was utterly devoted and completely in love with him, but at least had the sense he would not welcome ridiculous demonstrations of it. Both were perfect for letting off steam, but Lucius was better at taking the pain and enjoying it. Equally, it was fun playing with Lucius because he knew how much it would break Draco if they were discovered. Harry did like to tease him.

He was steadily on his way to becoming Minister for Magic after putting down a budding Dark Lord, launching himself once again into the public eye, and his followers had been dropping hints toward a separate world just for wizards to everyone they spoke to. He had a satisfying job in International Cooperation and imagined he would be eligible to run for Minister next year.

In a few more years he aimed to leak a particularly revealing video tape to the Muggles and then reveal his newly created land. His scientists were working on creating a self-sustaining airborne landmass, but they weren’t quite there yet. They were getting closer, however.

His magic buzzed, alerting him to Draco’s urgent call. He apparated into the Ministry, brushing the wards aside. One of the Unspeakables who he knew specialised in Ministry defence growled and glared at him. He smirked. The wards were a point of contention between them. He could feel them going back up already.

“Darling,” he called out. Draco shifted aside to reveal Muggle news footage of a foolish witch on a broomstick.

“Is it being dealt with?”

“Mr Potter!” The Head Auror was blustering and irritating. Despite many at the Ministry welcoming Harry’s assistance, the DMLE were unusually impervious to both his reputation and his money. It was amusing, if frustrating.

“It’s Lord Potter, actually.” He, unlike some Dark Lords he chose not to think of, could actually claim to hold a lordship.

“Lord Potter. This is not your department. What are you doing here?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Robards.

“It might become my department if this isn’t contained. Besides, I’m merely here to ask my gorgeous boyfriend out for lunch.” Draco smirked at his side. Robards huffed but waved them away.

“We’ve got Obliviators on sight, they’ll believe it’s a hoax by tomorrow. May as well take the day, Malfoy.”

Harry smiled and offered his arm to Draco, who took it.

“Not again,” was muttered as he ripped through the wards and Apparated them home.

“Who’s in charge of monitoring the Muggle news and catching this nonsense before we’re ready for it?” Harry asked once they were safe. Draco grimaced. Ah.

“My father.” Harry hid a smile. “Go easy on him?” Draco asked. Harry stroked Draco’s cheek with the back of his hand and brushed a kiss upon his lips.

“Only for you,” he lied and Apparated silently into Malfoy Manor. Lucius was waiting for him in his bedroom, the opposite side of the manor to Narcissa’s these days. He stiffened as Harry placed a hand on his shoulder, before turning and dropping to one knee.

“My Lord.”

Harry silenced and warded the room. He grabbed Lucius with his magic and bent him forwards over the desk, securing his hands behind his back.

“I’m rather disappointed in you,” he said. Lucius knew not to reply. He ran the tip of his wand down Lucius’ spine. Lucius shivered and Harry tilted forward to press his clothed erection into Lucius’ hip.

He took a deep breath, licking his lips.

“ _Crucio_ ,” he said, and Lucius screamed.

He released the spell after a moment and stroked the side of Lucius’ face that he could see, his other cheek pressed into the desk.

“Shush. There now, don’t cry.” Harry flicked his wand and Lucius was rid of his slacks and robe, revealing a toned arse and pale legs. He roughly opened Lucius up, ignoring the pants and hisses of pain. He fucked into Lucius with just enough lube to make it comfortable for himself. Lucius said nothing but grunted at the intrusion. Harry sent a tingle of magic to play with Lucius’ prostate and the man groaned. He pumped Lucius a few times before casting a spell that ensured he wouldn’t come and wouldn’t soften.

“You know what’s next,” he whispered and Lucius sobbed, once. “ _Crucio_.”

Lucius convulsed around him beautifully and after one last thrust Harry spiralled over the edge, drunk on power and magic and pleasure and pain. He released the curse as he came back to himself, leaving Lucius shaking, pulling out and tidying himself away. He tugged on Lucius’ overstimulated cock a few more times, before allowing him to soften.

“You don’t get to come until next time I visit you,” he warned him. Lucius crumpled to the ground after he ended the bindings. He levitated Lucius into his bed.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Lucius murmured, still shaking. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Lucius against his chest. Lucius stiffened, but relaxed almost immediately. Harry fed him an anti-cruciatus and the pain reliever before laying him back down.

“Sleep now,” he said, a smile on his face that he knew spoke of satisfaction.

He returned to Draco who had laid out lunch and was leaning against a wall, trying not to look anxious.

“That was quick.”

Harry snorted. “I said I’d go easy on him.”

Draco pulled him into a kiss. “I love you,” Draco said. Harry gazed at him, amused, as he flushed.

“I know,” he replied, drawing Draco in for another kiss, tweaking one of his nipples beneath the shirt. Draco arched into him and Harry picked him up, lunch forgotten.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered and smiled into Draco’s neck as he took him to bed.

* * *

  _Harry_

They were ready. He was Minister. They had created a city that floated in the sky, warping space so that it was hidden in a pocket dimension, only accessible by floo, portkey, and extremely long-distance apparition if you'd been there before and were strong enough.

They released undeniable proof to the Muggles that magic existed, and the world became chaos. Peace talks between Muggles and wizards failed miserably as both sides were ignorant and intolerant. Harry allowed the situation to deteriorate into nearly all out war before offering a solution; Haven, so accurately named.

Albus Dumbledore offered slight resistance, but despite him Magicals flocked to Harry’s side, whether they be creature, being or wizard. Land was free and labour was cheap, and everyone was welcome, as long as they abided by his rule. He formed a group of advisers who were voted in from all walks of nature to give the impression of democracy. The ones that struggled most were the pure-blood wizards of Britain and Western Europe, not used to dealing with magical creatures as their equals, unlike the rest of the world. ‘Muggleborns’ were found and rescued at birth, but Hermione’s research showed that they were actually the result of long lines of squibs, whom Harry employed as manual labourers. It took five years but eventually there was very little trace of magic on Earth. There were small communities hidden away that his people returned to, but the majority of them were happily secluded from the Muggles and never forced to hide from the community that they lived in.

“My Lord,” they murmured as he walked down the street and he revelled in the power. His magic formed a barrier preventing them from getting too close, and they learned to respect his privacy and presence, merely greeting him before continuing with their day.

Most of them did, anyway.

“You!” Harry laughed as he faced Ron Weasley. He was skinny and pasty looking and prone to spewing insults. His mother tugged at his arm, attempting to pull him away. Ron wrenched himself free and his mother tripped. Harry caught her and she smiled.

“Mrs Weasley,” he said, remembering her kindly from many of his other lives.

“Thank you, Lord Potter. I apologise for my son’s behaviour.”

Ron flushed. “What! He’s nothing but a slimy Slytherin.”

Mrs Weasley’s eyes flashed and he could tell Ron would be receiving an earful when they got home. The only reason he was still alive today was because he’d been Harry’s first friend, in his first life.

“A shame that Ronald did not grow up to be like his other siblings,” Harry said. Mrs Weasley hid a guilty smile.

“A pleasure to see you both,” he said, before withdrawing. He nodded at Ron, and apparated away, enjoying the aghast look upon Ron’s face.

He appeared in his foyer, hoping to find Draco and take him, then take him for lunch. His dragon was wrapped in conversation with a French pure-blooded architect. The man was tall and pretty, with olive skin and pearly white teeth that he showed off frequently as he smiled. Harry narrowed his eyes. He drew closer, unravelling his magical aura, and slid an arm around Draco’s waist. Draco had known he was coming if the way he’d shivered when his magic had reached him was any indication.

“Durand, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to have to steal Draco away,” he said, gripping Draco’s hip tightly. Draco glanced sideways at him. Durand nodded, eying him warily, stepping back as if he’d just realised exactly how dangerous it would be to be flirting with Lord Potter’s consort. Harry smiled in the way that made Lucius flinch every time he saw it and Durand took another step back.

“Good day to you both,” he said.

Harry smirked. “And you.”

Harry Apparated them straight into their bedroom, ridding the both of them of their clothes. He pinned Draco to the bed, who gazed up at him with a smirk upon his face.

“Mine. You’re mine,” Harry told him, placing biting kisses along Draco’s jaw and down his neck, sucking against his pulse point.

“You’re a terror, a tyrant,” Draco gasped. He bit the corded muscle between Draco’s neck and shoulder, forcing open his legs. Draco whimpered and spread them further, thrusting up against him.

“Mine,” he repeated, kissing down Draco’s chest and then swallowing his cock. Draco groaned and Harry used the opportunity to slide a lubed finger into him.

“I’m yours,” Draco iterated with a pant. Harry slid another finger in, pressing insistently against Draco’s prostate.

“More. Now,” Draco demanded. Harry moved back up him, planting a kiss on his lips and slid in with a hiss, sheathed in one fast movement. Draco’s eyelashes fluttered, and Harry took him hard and fast, relentless and obsessed.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. Draco moaned as his hand settled on his cock, but Harry wasn’t satisfied. Harry drew close and propped himself up on one arm, using his spare hand to bat Draco’s away and replaced it with his own. He moved his hand in three quick tugs and Draco came and Harry followed him with a groan. He slid his softening cock out and replaced it with two fingers, owning Draco completely. Draco whimpered and pushed back onto him, his soft insides fluttering against him.

“Mine,” he whispered, massaging the overstimulated gland. Draco’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he convulsed around Harry’s hand.

“Harry,” Draco cried as Harry tugged on Draco’s still hard cock. He continued with the assault on Draco’s senses, as Draco muttered his name on repeat, a mantra or a prayer. He licked Draco’s nipples, bit his lips, sucked a ring of bruises around his neck, all the while touching him inside and out.

“Come for me.” Draco arched into him with a hiss and Harry carefully withdrew his hand. He cleaned them both and pulled Draco close.

“My beautiful dragon,” he whispered. Draco practically purred and fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

  _Lucius_

When Lucius awoke he couldn’t see a thing. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel his magic. All of these things were acceptable. All of these things were something he’d played at with Harry and were not cause for panic.

However, he couldn’t feel Harry. Not the magical connection, nor the person, and something made him suspect that this was not one of their games. And that certainly was a cause for panic.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d lain there when a flash of light made him wince. He was lying in a warded cellar and someone had opened the door. More importantly, someone was about to step through the wards. He concentrated on sending a pulse of magic to Harry the moment the wards were disrupted. The person stepped through and Lucius squinted up at them. Red hair… he grimaced. A Weasley. Another man appeared behind him and he sent another pulse of magic to Harry, hoping it would be enough. If Harry bothered to come. If this was a nationwide rebellion Lucius Malfoy was not the one Harry would be coming to save. He might decide it too much trouble regardless.

“How did he do it?” Weasley demanded.

Lucius remembered Harry mentioning that he had four followers who were Weasley. This must be the third, or the sixth.

“Ronald?” he hazarded a guess. Weasley gaped at him, then kicked him in the stomach. Lucius groaned, his bonds preventing him from recoiling.

“Tell us how he did it. I know it’s his fault the Muggles found us. How?”

Lucius refrained from rolling his eyes.

“What have you done?” said the man behind Weasley. “Are you mad? Ron, this is insane. I know you’re not happy with your lot but if you’re right that he’s part of Potter’s inner circle then he’ll come for him, and you’ll regret it. Besides – this is wrong! Even if he is a Malfoy.”

“Quite right, Seamus,” Harry said from his left. Lucius jerked in surprise and the other two men stumbled back. “For that, I won’t kill you.” Harry flicked his hand and Lucius was freed. His wand was summoned from Weasley’s person and placed in Lucius’ hand. He staggered to his feet, clutching his wand, glaring at Weasley and Seamus, so, so grateful Harry had come. He risked a glance at Harry. He was glorious in his battle gear, dragonhide armour moulded to his every muscle. His eyes were cold, and the room echoed with the fury of his magic. Weasley was red with anger and Seamus was on his knees, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Lord Potter, I’m so sorry, I had no idea what he was doing.”

“Look at me.” Harry caught Seamus’ eyes. “Legilimens.”

Seamus moaned and shuddered, until Harry released the spell with a scoff.

“ _Crucio_ ,” Harry growled and they both screamed. Harry released the curse on Seamus. Weasley still writhed upon the floor.

“You’re lucky you aren’t lying,” Harry murmured. “Get out! Don’t even think about the name Ron Weasley again. You’ll regret it.”

Seamus scrambled up the stairs. Harry released the curse on Weasley and bound him, then turned to Lucius. Harry inspected every inch of him before nodding to himself.

“Want a go?” he asked, brow raised. Lucius shook his head. Harry flicked his wand and Weasley disappeared. He extended his arm to Lucius. Lucius took it and they Apparated into Lucius’ rooms. The moment they were safe Harry moved to him, eyes filled with concern.

“Are you okay?” Harry muttered, running his arms over every inch of Lucius he could reach. Lucius sagged, sitting on the bed, holstering his wand. He’d not been injured, but he’d not realised how much he depended on the gentle brush of Harry’s magic against his.

“I am now,” he replied, then grimaced at how that sounded.

“How dare they?” Harry growled, his magic wild and angry.

“Harry,” Lucius said. Harry blinked and his magic calmed instantly. He drew closer, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

“That’s the first time you’ve not called me ‘my Lord’,” he remarked, and laughed. Lucius winced and Harry snapped his fingers.

“Hey, I’ve given you permission to use my given name in private, that wasn’t an admonition.”

Lucius chanced a smile.

“Fuck. When I lost your magical signature.” Harry shook his head. He cradled Lucius’ face in his hands and kissed him carefully before withdrawing.

Lucius pulled him closer.

“I want it,” he said, shivering at Harry’s touch. Harry’s fingers danced over him, ridding him of his clothes and sliding over him. He turned them on their side and took both their cocks into his grip. He laced his spare hand with Lucius’, fingers interlocking. Their foreheads were pressed together, and Lucius couldn’t look away from Harry’s alluring eyes. He sighed with pleasure, reaching his peak then falling over it with a gasp, swiftly followed by Harry murmuring his name. He closed his eyes, exhausted by the intensity of the moment and the terror of his experience and quickly drifted asleep.

* * *

  _Harry_

Harry had heard whispers. The floated, like dandelion seeds on the breeze, never quite settling. Irregardless, just the mention of the Order of the Phoenix was enough to put Harry on edge. He called a meeting of his most faithful; Lucius, Draco, Hermione, Fred, Cedric, Daphne, Neville and Augusta.

“Does Severus Snape still work at Hogwarts?” he asked after explaining the situation. Hogwarts was one of the few places they’d not managed to bring to Haven. Dumbledore had refused to leave, the castle couldn’t be uprooted, and frankly Harry wasn’t bothered to try as it was hidden and secluded from Muggles. Each year fewer students attended, instead choosing one of his schools, which were far more open minded. There were several options to pick from, whether it be boarding, day schools, or universities.

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius murmured.

Harry hummed. Severus, like all ex-Death Eaters, had been marked to prevent explicit betrayal against him, but frankly Severus’ mark had far more leeway than the others, originating from Harry’s respect for the man in his previous lives. He’d have to tighten the metaphorical noose and flip the spy back to his side.

“Ask him over for dinner with your family and I’ll make an appearance.”

Lucius blinked and nodded. Harry dismissed his faithful as he stood, a faint smile on his lips, thinking of the upcoming meeting. Severus was always fun to play with.

* * *

  _Harry_

Harry arrived at the Malfoy home just after they had retired to the lounge, a faint tug of magic from Lucius alerting him. He was shown in by a smartly dressed house elf and strode into the room the moment he was introduced.

“My Lord,” Lucius nodded from his stance by the bookshelf. Draco and Narcissa had retired, as Harry had only wanted to deal with those who had actually served under Voldemort. Severus leapt to his feet and Harry could see his hand straying toward his wand before he collected himself and bowed.

“Lord Potter,” he was greeted through clenched teeth. Harry wondered how much it had galled the man to say it. When Harry had marked Severus after finishing school, the man had been furious to discover that sweet little Slytherin Harry Potter with Lily’s eyes and cheekbones had been hiding a far more sinister side. They’d been cordial but distant since, after Harry had flexed his magic and overpowered the man.

“Severus. Do sit,” he said, accepting Lucius’ offer of whiskey and sliding into his usual armchair. He arched a brow at Lucius. “Do you mind if I have a brief word with Severus, while he’s in my little part of the world?”

Lucius’ lips twitched and he slid into the seat at Harry’s right. “Not at all, my Lord,” Lucius said.

Severus’ gaze flicked between the two of them as he realised he’d been set up. He settled, not comfortable, but resigned.

“Now Severus, I don’t know if you ever quite figured it out, but you had far more leniency in your little ankle monitor than the rest of your colleagues,” Harry began. Severus stiffened but said nothing.

“I’m well aware of the position you played in the last Wizarding War, especially after my mother’s death. Swearing allegiance to Dumbledore, promising to protect little old me, spying on Voldemort, etcetera.” He could feel Lucius’ intrigue. Behind the expressionless face Harry could sense Severus’ occlumency shields rising, only his eyes displaying any emotion. Harry crushed his way through the shields, insinuating himself into every inch of Severus’ mind.

“Hmm, not such a fan of me anymore, not since I left school and left my alter ego of potions prodigy behind. Acting as if I rule the world?” Harry laughed. “Well, I do, I hope you can excuse that. Not a fan of Dumbledore either, are you? Just trapped in a nasty situation. Then of course there’s that niggling sensation that Lily would kill you once you reach the afterlife if you were to cause my death. What to do?” He grinned viciously and twitched a finger. The bindings on Severus’ ankle tightened.

“Now, you’ll return to Hogwarts as my good little spy. None of that double-crossing nonsense you played at with Voldemort. I’ll know, and you’ll die, painfully. I expect weekly updates, run them through Lucius, if you please.” He stroked a hand over Lucius’ cheek, then stood.

“Enjoy your evening,” he said with a smirk as he exited the room. He concentrated, then apparated into Draco’s presence. Draco didn’t even blink with surprise.

“Hello,” Draco said, his voice low and hoarse. He was naked, and sprawled across their bed, pale limbs contrasting with sky blue sheets. He lazily stroked his cock. “I thought you’d come see me. You like the power, don’t you?” Harry shrugged off his clothes with a thought and insinuated himself between Draco’s thighs, batting away his hand. He licked a stripe up Draco’s cock and Draco hissed. With a thought, Draco’s arms were bound above his head and a slip of cloth covered his eyes.

“You’re a tease, my lovely dragon,” Harry murmured, before getting to work, licking and sucking and kissing. Harry brought him right up to the edge, then stopped.

“The meeting went well,” Harry said, sitting back on his haunches. Draco whined, thrusting into empty air, tugging on his bindings.

“Harry, please,” he panted.

Harry stroked his hands up Draco’s thighs, stopping just short of cock standing proudly to attention, and dragged his nails back down them. Draco shuddered.

“Oh Merlin. Fuck. Fuck me. Please.” Harry opened Draco up with a spell and slid in, his aching body welcoming the tight heat as Draco groaned.

“Yes,” he hissed, or Draco did, or they both did. They moved together, sweaty and hot and driven by desire. With one last thrust Draco shouted, and convulsed around him, and Harry followed him right over. He released the bonds, cleaning them both and drew Draco close, letting sleep fall over the both of them.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Lucius _

“I have Severus’ most recent report,” Lucius said, taking a seat before the fireplace in Harry’s study, while Harry paced the room. “The Order of the Phoenix is again once more.” 

Harry twirled a wand between his fingers, his gaze sightless as he contemplated Lucius’s words. Lucius couldn’t help but notice it was not the holly and phoenix feather one that everybody knew to be Harry Potter’s wand. It was not worth remarking upon, however. 

“So, the old man has finally mobilised,” Harry murmured. “I wondered if he would.” 

“Dumbledore believes that you are actually Voldemort in disguise.” Harry abhorred the use of acronyms such as ‘Who Know Who’, or ‘Boy Who Lived’. Lucius had long mastered the art of speaking his old lord’s name without even a flinch.  

Harry snorted. “He’s an idiot.”  

Lucius eyed the man before him. He’d spent many hours mulling over the conundrum that was Harry Potter. From the eerie child whose piercing green eyes had haunted him for decades, to the strong, successful, but still young man before him who effectively ruled the magical world. How had he achieved what so many could not? He knew things, could do things that should not be possible. Lucius had considered that Harry could have been Voldemort reincarnated, however although there were many similarities, the differences were even greater. Voldemort had been sly and charming, but Harry had won the masses over with genuine care. There was equality within the magical world for all creatures, something Voldemort had never cared for. He protected those in his charge, and his followers loved him and were not inspired by fear, for the most part. No, Harry was not Voldemort, but Lucius did not know what he was. 

Harry groaned, and Lucius realised he’d been caught up in his own thoughts, sitting in silence. Harry stretched, revealing a slip of skin that Lucius had to look away from lest he be distracted. 

“Fucking Dumbledore,” Harry muttered to himself. “Every damn time.” 

He spun, eyes fixed on Lucius, a faint smirk upon his face. 

“Do you think I can get away with just murdering him?” Harry asked. Lucius wasn’t entirely sure whether Harry was joking or not. 

“Perhaps we can hire an assassin?”  

Harry laughed and his eyes twinkled. “Anything an assassin can do I can do better.” 

Lucius didn’t doubt it. Harry sighed. 

“No. He’s been rather vocal about disapproving of my rule up here. If he died, I’d only make a martyr of him.” Harry pressed a single finger to his lip, pursing them as he did. Suddenly, his face lit up in delight. 

“Lucius, darling,” he purred, and Lucius gulped. “What do you know of Gellert Grindelwald?” 

* * *

_Harry_

Harry twirled the Elder Wand between his fingers. He’d stolen it in his second year of schooling from a locked draw in the Headmaster’s Office. It had stopped working for Dumbledore when he’d arrived in this timeline and he wondered if Dumbledore had even noticed it’s absence, not that mattered. After all, the Hallows only had one true master.  

Icy blue eyes glared up at him, then fixed greedily upon the wand in his hands. Before him in his tiny cell in Nurmengard was another man who’d once laid claim to Death’s wand. 

“Where did you get that?” rasped Gellert Grindelwald. Harry smiled. 

“That is quite irrelevant,” Harry replied. He flicked the wand and Grindelwald was thrown against the wall behind him. Chains materialised out of brick, binding Grindelwald to it. From his pocket he withdrew parchment and an auto recording quill. 

“I’d like you to tell me everything you know about Albus Dumbledore, from the day you met, to the plans of Muggle domination you made together, to the fight which eventually led to the death of his sister,” Harry said silkily. Grindelwald’s eyes widened, but he clamped his mouth shut. Harry sighed. 

“Come now, surely you don’t care about a man who betrayed you, ruined your life, and left you to die in this miserable hell hole?” 

Grindelwald chuckled darkly and shook his head.

“That is all true. But those memories are mine, and thus precious to me. Age gives one perspective, you see. Perspective that someone like you will not understand, not for many years. Why, you can’t be forty,” Grindelwald sneered. “And so, any revenge to be taken on Dumbledore I will take for myself, now or in the afterlife. You’ll not get a word from me.”  

Harry sighed. “I will hurt you, if you do not tell me.”  

Grindelwald scoffed.  “Look at you. A pansy of a wizard. You don’t have the balls to break me.”  

Harry crouched down to meet his eyes.  

“Do not presume that because I look young, I am,” Harry said. “After all, I achieved something both you and Dumbledore failed to do.” 

“Master of Death is just a title,” Grindelwald growled. “And a useless one at that.”  

Harry hummed. “And that is where you are wrong. But that is irrelevant.” He stroked Grindelwald’s cheek with the tip of his wand. 

“I’d like to say I won’t get any enjoyment from this, but I do try my best not to lie,” Harry murmured. 

He smiled faintly. “Crucio.”  

Grindelwald writhed in his bonds, lasting an impressively long time before crying out. Harry released the curse and conjured himself an armchair. Grindelwald eyed him warily, taking a shaky breath.

“Legilimens,” Harry incanted and was met by cast-iron barriers. He sighed and frowned down at Grindelwald. 

“Must you be so difficult? Hmm?” When Grindelwald did not answer, Harry lifted his wand once more. “Very well. Crucio.” He kept a tendril of awareness inside Grindelwald’s mind, searching for cracks in his shields, or for signs of insanity. It would, he suspected, be a long night.  

Harry was prepared to wait. 

* * *

_Lucius_

Lucius was sitting in lounge decorated so vilely he thought he may have to Scourgify his retinas after he left. Orange painted the walls, clashing with the pink leopard-print sofa pattern. He’d turned off all the lights, so as not to offend his eyes, and was waiting in the least disgusting armchair. The woman who owned the house was someone they’d used before and thus Lucius had no qualms about breaking in. 

“Shit!” the woman in question swore as she entered her lounge, flicking on the lights and recoiling from the sight of Lucius sitting there. A hand flew to her heart, as if to calm it.  

“Hello Rita,” Lucius said. He got straight down to business. With a flick of his wand he unshrunk a sack of galleons and several sheets of parchment. Rita snatched up the galleons.

“What do you want now?” she hissed. As she counted the coins, her eyes grew wide. Her gaze settled on the parchment.

“This is a lot of money. A lot more than usual,” she said, lips pursing. 

“I’m well aware,” Lucius said. “We’d like you to use the information here to compile a series of articles, or even a book, about Albus Dumbledore.”  

Rita stiffened. Greedy eyes flicked between him and the parchment, while she weighed the money in her hand. She scanned the first page and her jaw dropped. 

“This is dangerous territory,” Rita said, even as she continued to read, moving quickly through the document. 

“That’s why you’re being paid more than usual,” Lucius said, as if speaking to a child. 

“Hmm. I’m not sure it’s enough. You wouldn’t want me to let it slip who provided me with this information,” Rita said, a hint of challenge in her voice. Lucius raised a brow. 

“No one cares about an ex-Death Eater.”  

She smiled, baring her teeth. “We both know it’s more than that, don’t we now?”  

Lucius sighed. “Only two people could reveal the secrets of Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, and Dumbledore’s hardly likely to confess,” Lucius said quietly.  

Rita narrowed her eyes at him, before looking away and continuing to read. 

“Gellert Grindelwald’s dead. It happened three weeks ago. Heart attack, while in prison. The guards couldn’t get to him in time.”  

Lucius laughed. Rita froze. She’d kept one hand on her wand the entire conversation. 

“Do you know what it looks like when someone’s heart gives out after one too many Crucios?” Lucius asked casually. He flicked his wand and she flinched. The picture of Grindelwald, dead in his cell, flew to the top of the pile. “That.”  

Rita’s hands shook as she picked up the photo and set it aside. 

“Now, Rita. You can write a factually accurate, if malicious story about Dumbledore’s past, have your name go down in history, and be paid handsomely for it, or, you can experience what it feels like to be tortured to death for yourself.” He raised a brow. “Do you have a preference?”

She flinched. “It’ll be the story of the year,” she muttered. 

“Of the decade,” Lucius corrected. She closed her eyes and nodded. 

“I can work with this,” she said, giving him an entirely fake and watery smile. He smiled back. 

“Excellent. Do let me know if you need any more resources.” He narrowed his eyes. “But don’t bother wasting my time otherwise. Good day.” He apparated straight back to the palace. Harry was waiting for him, Draco lounging on the sofa by his side. 

“Success?” Harry asked, smiling at him cruelly as he patted Draco’s hair. Lucius schooled his face blank. 

“Of course, my Lord.” He couldn’t look at his son. 

“Wonderful!” Draco declared. “I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too long, Harry.”  

Lucius and Harry waited in silence until the sound of Draco’s departure faded. 

“Come, Lucius.” He slid into the seat beside Harry, uncomfortably aware he was sitting where Draco had sat before. Harry trailed light fingers across his shoulders, sparks of magic massaging the muscles and releasing some of the tension.  

“My Lord,” Lucius said stiffly. “May I retire?”

Harry pulled away, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Of course, Lucius,” he said. “Sleep well.” 

* * *

_Harry_

There was only one place on Earth that Harry visited with any sort of consistency. He seated himself on the bench in Godric’s Hollow, having just conjured a wreath of flowers; lilies and roses, and placed it beside his parents’ grave. 

Another presence made itself known by sitting beside him. 

“My boy,” Dumbledore began. Harry held up a hand to stop him. 

“Not here,” he said. He closed his eyes, mildly infuriated that his only chosen moment of peace had been disturbed, but knew he could use this to his advantage. After all, Tom Riddle would never show remorse for the deaths of Harry’s parents. 

After a moment he stood and gestured for Dumbledore to follow him. Once they’d left the graveyard, Harry offered his hand. Dumbledore took it without a moment of hesitation. Harry was tempted to make him regret his arrogance, but withheld his anger. 

He apparated them onto Haven, just outside his favourite restaurant, where he kept a standing table. They were ushered in discretely, although Harry had no doubt that by the time they left there would be hordes of reporters eager for the latest gossip massing on the street. 

“Albus, what can I do for you?” Harry said once they were seated. 

Dumbledore eyed him with a contemplative gaze. “Why?” he eventually said. 

Harry sipped from the glass of wine a waiter had discretely brought over, then raised several privacy wards around them. He didn’t bother asking Dumbledore to elaborate. 

“In my first life, I became Master of all three hallows aged seventeen. I faced Death as his equal, and chose to return my life as it was, defeating Voldemort once and for all. I married Ginny Weasley and had three children. I lived happily until my entire life was destroyed when the Muggles discovered magic and most of the wizarding world was wiped out. I died, one of the last magicals alive on earth, age seventy, and awoke in my fifteen-month-old body, memories intact. After multiple lives, I determined this was the only way to preserve the magical world without murdering all the Muggles.” Harry smirked at Dumbledore’s pale visage. “Really, one might even say that I acted for the Greater Good.” 

“Harry, if you had just come to me,” Dumbledore implored. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “This is not up for debate, you fool. Don’t you think I tried that? It did no good. Besides, you refused to listen until it was too late. This is the only option, no matter what you may believe. You’re finished, destroyed by both your history, and your failure to defer to another. You are too stubborn, Albus Dumbledore, to allow another to lead you, and so you must be deposed.” 

“The transition could have been bloodless,” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes as cold as the snow in December. “Your dissenters disappear, never to be seen again. Your followers are mindless, blinded to your faults and there are some rumours surrounding your palace that I would not like to believe are true.” 

Harry bit back a frown and smirked. “Well, I do like to have my fun.” 

Rage passed behind Dumbledore’s eyes, before fading to sadness. “Young Harry Potter had so much potential.” 

Harry ignored him, and finished his wine. “I have a meeting to get to,” he said, and sent a pulse down his mark, calling Severus and Lucius to his chambers. “But you are welcome to stay here for lunch.” 

“I, too, must be getting away.” 

They exited the building and came face to face with the press, cameras flashing, quills hovering in mid-air. 

“No questions,” Harry said loudly. He turned to Dumbledore, and offer him his hand. 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Albus.” 

Dumbledore shook his hand, his expression indecipherable. “Always nice to see an old student of mine, my boy.” 

Harry nodded, and twisted the wards so that he could apparate through them. 

* * *

_Lucius_

Being summoned to Harry’s private parlour rarely fared well, especially when he was not alone. After enduring Severus’ foul glare for several minutes, Lucius turned to him and arched a brow. 

“Yes?” he inquired, a hint of boredom made evident in his tone. 

Severus sneered back at him. “What are you doing, consorting with that Potter boy?” he snarled. 

Lucius allowed himself a faint smile, which only served to infuriate Severus more. “He’s no longer a boy,” he said mildly. “And I did try to warn you.” 

When Harry had been still at Hogwarts, Severus had been utterly blind to anything but the mask Harry had shown him. He’d had a rude awakening the year that Harry graduated. 

“Not well,” Severus snapped back. Lucius rolled his eyes. 

“You and I both feel the constriction of my Lord’s basilisk. Don’t be obtuse.” 

Severus huffed and they both fell back into silence while they awaited Harry’s arrival. 

Moments later Harry walked into the room. The very air around him thrummed with furious energy, and Lucius warily took a step back. 

“Dumbledore,” Harry hissed, and Lucius instantly understood why he was so agitated. “Dumbledore has suggested that there are unsavoury rumours surrounding my rule.” His eyes glowed a brilliant green. “Why have I not been informed of this?” 

Lucius hid a flinch. 

“What did you expect?” Severus answered brashly. “When your rule your land with fear?” 

Lucius was unsurprised to find Severus writhing on the ground moments later, clutching at his throat as he began to choke. Harry stood over him, his magic lashing out wildly.  

“My Lord,” Lucius said when Severus’ face took on a beetroot hue. Harry’s gaze landed upon him, fearsome and frightening. Then he blinked and his senses appeared to return. Harry eyed Severus, whom was still choking, then scoffed, releasing him. 

“Your manner is most unsavoury and you never learn, do you?” Harry said, almost to himself. 

He sighed, and his anger slipped away from him, and a weariness not suited to a man of his youth came over him. 

“Every time,” Harry muttered. Severus gasped, still on the floor. Lucius stepped forward. 

“My Lord, these rumours are few and far between.” 

“And what are they?” Harry demanded. 

Lucius could not meet Harry’s gaze. “They suggest… that Draco is coerced.” 

Harry froze, then laughed. “That’s all?” 

“It is no laughing matter,” Severus rasped, his gaze hateful as he glared at Harry. He turned to stare beseechingly at Lucius. “How can you allow this? Your son – my godson?” 

Lucius blinked. He offered Severus a hand to help him get to his feet. 

“Severus,” he said, incredulous. “The rumours aren’t true.” 

“Indeed, they are not,” Harry agreed, his thoughts undecipherable as he watched Severus, who was warily getting to his feet. “Nonetheless, they are damaging. Find the source, and deal with it.” 

* * *

_Harry_

Draco lay sprawled across Harry’s chest, snoring lightly. This was the first lifetime in which Harry had let himself get close to the other man, and he couldn’t find himself regretting it. He carded a hand through Draco’s golden locks, curling his fingers around Draco’s skull. How easy it would be to kill him now. Just a thought, a flex of his fingers, a jerk of his wrists as he snapped Draco’s neck. 

Harry gasped, and curled his hand into a fist. 

He couldn’t – didn’t – want to do it. 

Harry had thought that no matter how long he lived, he’d always hate the Malfoys. That opinion had changed as Harry had. Now he understood the ruthlessness and base survival instincts that compelled them.  

At the core, that’s what the Malfoys were; a family determined to survive and prosper if they could. It was what made Lucius so reliable ↥— Harry kept him in power and wealth. Should that ever change, perhaps his loyalties would. 

Harry’s influence on Lucius was strong, however, so it was unlikely. 

His magic hummed, one of his faithful summoning him. Harry shrugged on a robe and met them in the parlour. 

George Weasley stood there and eyed Harry’s bare legs with unashamed appreciation. Harry snorted a laugh and raised a brow. 

“Harry, old chap!” George clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry drew him into a hug. 

“George. What have you got for me?” 

George huffed, putting on a theatrical display of devastation. “It’s all work, and no play from you, Lord Potter!”

Harry smirked. “So you think.” 

George eyed him for a moment, then winked. “Indeed.” He withdrew a plethora of folders from his satchel. 

Harry accepted his offering and flipped through them. They were obviously pictures of Dumbledore’s Order constructing some kind of ritual circle. 

“What the hell is he up to?” 

George grimaced. “I think it’s meant to cleanse you. Of, er, well, of any filth, bad spirits and the like, you see.” 

Harry stared at the photographs, suddenly weary beyond reason. 

“Go,” he said shortly, and George was wise enough to scarper out the room. 

Closing his eyes, Harry ran a hand through his hair then pinched the bridge of his nose. Each of the images ran through his mind and he began to plot. 

Dumbledore’s time was nearly done. He would make sure of it. 

* * *

_Lucius_

Lucius was a devious bastard, and he knew it, and Draco was ingenious when he wanted to be. However, as much as it would have once disgusted him to even think the thought, Hermione Granger was the cleverest witch he’d ever met. He was not ashamed to admit it.

Most thought that Hermione had followed the path of academia, and that was somewhat true. However, her position in the Dark Lord’s council was far greater than that. 

“Don’t argue with me, Harry!” Hermione growled. Instead of darkness filling the room as Harry’s anger grew, instead he smirked.  

“We’re just having a friendly disagreement,” Harry said.  

Lucius arched a brow. A friendly disagreement about killing twenty people was hardly friendly at all. 

“Arg!” Hermione exclaimed and pointed directly at Harry. “You’re so frustrating! That’s it – I quit.” 

If Hermione hadn’t quit at least once a week over the last several years, Lucius would have found this worrisome as she stormed from the room. Instead, he moved to Harry’s side. 

“She’s right, my Lord.” 

Harry snorted and glared at him. “You too, Lucius?” 

“Me three,” Blaise piped up and murmur of agreement echoed around the room. 

Hermione chose that moment to stalk back into the room. In her arms were stacks of books.  

“Proof!” she declared. “Massacres never truly benefit anyone, least of all those orchestrating one.” 

Harry took one look at the books and sighed. Lucius hid a smirk. 

“What do you suggest we do then? I’m not about to let Dumbledore attempt to subject me to some sort of ritual.” 

At this, Hermione withdrew another book. Lucius crowed closer and he wasn’t the only one. Daphne excelled in ritual magic, and Susan’s ancestors had been necromancers. 

“Overload it. Shouldn’t take much. It’ll kill Dumbledore – but look like magical exhaustion – and the rest of the Order will have no one to blame but themselves.” 

Harry sighed. Lucius, pathetically in tune with what Harry wanted, cleared his throat. 

“Work on it, Granger. Find us the exact means to actually creating a situation in which this would happen. The rest of you – dismissed.” 


End file.
